


April 2016 Prompt Fills

by UnmovingGreatLibrary



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: F/F, Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:12:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6571084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnmovingGreatLibrary/pseuds/UnmovingGreatLibrary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(More) pairing-based prompt fills, from a custom list of prompts.</p><p>Contents:<br/>1. Renko/Maribel - Wedding<br/>2. Mokou/Futo - Old-fashioned<br/>3. Yukari/Yuyuko - The Little Things<br/>4. Junko/Hecatia - Exhaustion<br/>5. Marisa/Reimu - Hero<br/>6. Eirin/Sagume - Breaking the Rules<br/>7. Rin/Utsuho - Ashes<br/>8. Reimu/Ruukoto - Abandoned<br/>9. Seija/Marisa - Destiny<br/>10. Marisa/Yukari - Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time<br/>11. Kasen/Komachi - Cooking<br/>12. Yukari/Reimu - Like a Moth to a Flame</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Renko/Maribel - Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Tumblr user cheinsaw.

The interior of the Nakagyo Ward Government Office seemed to be stamped out of the same template as every other civic building in the history of mankind. The floors were grey-brown carpet, in a specific shade that was so unappealing, it was hard to tell if it was like that on purpose or had just gone too long between vacuumings. The walls were an inoffensive off-white. Rows of plastic seats gave visitors somewhere to sit while they waited, and a shelf along the wall held tidy stacks of the most commonly-requested forms.

Fortunately, form C120, Notification of Civil Marriage, had been among them, and Renko had managed to fill it out while they waited, sitting at an angle to use her thigh as a writing surface. Maribel had watched on, resisting the urge to help Renko through the entire form.

Now, they were in front of one of the self-help kiosks at the front of the room. Renko fed the form into it, and it whirred for a few seconds as it scanned her handwriting.

“Please state your name,” the kiosk said, in the sunny voice of a young woman.

“Renko Usami.”

“Maribel Hearn.”

“Thank you. Please state your intention.”

“We would... like to get married.” Maribel shifted anxiously after saying it. Having said that out loud, she felt like half the room was watching them now. They'd both worn their nicest dresses for this. Hers was a silky lavender thing she'd bought for a single party a few years ago. It made her feel incredibly out of place in the drab building, surrounded mostly by tired people who just wanted to finish their business and go home.

“Thank you.” The kiosk carried on, oblivious to her discomfort. “Please present your thumbs for biometric identification.”

They did. The kiosk made a sharp click as it scanned them. “Thank you. Your marriage has been registered. A one thousand yen registration fee is required, along with an additional five hundred yen per Certificate of Recognition of Marriage. Please present an authorized payment card or see a cashier for manual processing.”

“Huh, that was easier than I'd expected,” Renko said. As she dug in her purse for her bank card, she leaned over and gave Maribel a peck on the cheek. “I guess I can call you my wife now, huh?”

“Yeah,” Maribel said, and put up a smile as well as she could.

* * *

Renko didn't say anything until they were out of the government office, walking back toward her apartment. “You've been pretty quiet,” she said, and glanced over at Maribel. “You're not... regretting it or anything, are you? It's not too late, there's a three day period where we can...”

“Oh! No, it's not that. I'm really happy to be married to you. To, um... have you as my wife.” Just saying the word 'wife' brought a blush to Maribel's cheeks. “It's just...”

The whole thing had been Renko's idea, really, and it had only come with two days of warning. As always, Renko had presented a sound argument. The average wedding ceremony cost just over five and a half million yen, she'd pointed out, and their combined savings were barely fifty thousand. Wedding ceremonies took months to arrange, and with both of them considering post-grad work, they wouldn't have time for something like that for years. Then there were the further complications of Maribel's family living overseas, Renko's family living scattered across half the country, the travel restrictions the government had placed on Maribel after her mysterious disease... if they held out for the perfect fairy tale wedding, Renko had argued, they'd be waiting for a decade.

“... I don't know,” Maribel finished with a sigh. “I guess part of me always did daydream about having a big fancy wedding. It's kind of childish, huh?”

“Well, I don't know about that. It's only natural to want all the things that society tells you to. Besides, I find that part of you cute. And, well.”

They'd reached the door to Renko's apartment, and Renko reluctantly released Maribel's hand to fish out her key. She swiped it, and the door swept open soundlessly.

It took Maribel a moment to notice that something was out of the ordinary. There, sitting on the table mere meters in front of her, was a multi-tiered cake. A chocolate cake, with plastic figures standing on top. She stared at it in disbelief for a moment before speaking. “ _You_ made that?!”

“... bought it, actually. But it's a really nice cake!” Renko hurried inside and circled around the table, grinning at Maribel over the cake. “I did print the figures, though. The hair on yours is a little short, but...”

Maribel approached the table to inspect it more closely. “And what's with the other figures?”

“This one is supposed to be a mansion. It's a bit unimpressive, but... oh, and this one over here is a rabbit with a mochi hammer, and over there is a zombie. It's supposed to look like we're investigating them together.” Renko looked up from the cake, a sheepish smile on her face. “You married a physicist, not an artist, I'm afraid. You actually got lucky. Until I saw the ad for the bakery, I was planning to make you a macaroni art picture instead.”

“You wouldn't.”

“Well, I'd been planning on it, but then you made macaroni for dinner the other night. … oh, and! Computer: Configuration four, please.”

There was quiet beep of acknowledgment from the ceiling, and the atmosphere of the apartment changed. The lights dimmed, the curtains drew closed, and a low saxophone wailed soulfully from every speaker in the place.

Maribel could barely stop herself from laughing. “It sounds like we're in a porno now, though...”

“You're not officially married until you've danced to embarrassingly cheesy music. It's true, I looked it up. Besides, it got you to smile, didn't it?” With a smile of her own, Renko and offered her hand over. “What do you say?”

“I didn't know I was marrying a master of seduction. I don't know how to dance, but...” Maribel stepped forward and took Renko's hand. “Sure. Why not.”

“Neither do I. We'll figure it out. We always do.” Renko pulled Maribel in close, and the two began carefully swaying to the music. She stayed silent through the first song, and was well into the second before she spoke up again. “I know that filling out paperwork isn't much of a wedding, but we should still try to enjoy ourselves, you know? … and there's no way my mom would have forgiven me if I'd had a zombie on the cake at a fancy ceremony.”

Almost without thinking, Maribel had drifted closer at they'd danced, and her head was resting against Renko's shoulder now. She shook it as much as she could without leaving the position. “No, it's fine. This is... disgustingly sweet, actually, but I guess I should be used to that.” Reluctantly, she pulled her head back to talk to Renko face to face. “Besides, a wedding full of surprises is more our speed, I think.”

“Yeah, that's true. And you still haven't seen the biggest surprise yet.”

“Oh, there's still more? What is it?”

Renko's growing grin already told Maribel that she should have been more careful about asking. Still holding both hands, she moved in quickly, pulling Maribel into a much, much firmer kiss than the one they'd shared at the government building, and guided her backward and onto the couch.


	2. Mokou/Futo - Old-Fashioned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Tumblr user dlartistanon.

“Ho, Lady Fujiwara! I hope that thou art well this day?”

Mokou could hear the greeting from halfway across the bar, and she certainly didn't need to see the speaker to recognize Futo. She didn't even turn around as she replied, and only slightly raised her voice. “Yeah, just peachy. Have a seat. We've got a lot to talk about.”

“I am greatly pleased to have received an invitation from a distinguished lady such as thee. Although, I must admit...” By the time Futo settled into her chair, she was already fishing in the folds of her robe, and she soon withdrew a piece of paper. After unfolding it, she gave it a thoughtful inspection, then spread it out on the table. It read:

_Meet me at the bar_  
_with the fish sign out front_  
_in the village_  
_river district._  
_5 PM_

“... I am not familiar with the meter or style of thy response.”

“Yeah, see, that's the thing.” Mokou reached into her own pocket, pulled out a piece of paper, and slapped it on the table. “I'm a little confused, myself.”

It had started this morning, when a squeaky, nervous supplicant to the Taoists—an errand boy, in practice—had shown up on Mokou's front step. Stammering about an important message from Lady Mononobe no Futo, he'd bowed and thrust the letter into her face. She'd hoped that reading it would explain why the hell somebody wanted to talk to her at six AM. She'd been wrong.

The letter, now spread out in front of her, read:

_Mine eyes grow weary_  
_each night that I sit awake,_  
_and yet, I still must,_  
_for one waking glimpse of you_  
_outweighs every dream's bounties._

“So, uh.” Even after rereading it four or five times, Mokou still felt bewildered every time she looked at the thing. “I'm not really sure what this is about, except that I think it says you're watching me at night.”

“... ah? Perhaps my choice of words was unclear. It is a figure of speech.”

“That doesn't explain much. Why's it about _figuratively_ watching me at night, then?”

Futo glanced down at the letter, looking confused, herself. “Lady Fujiwara, I must apologize, but I do not understand. Dost thou mock me?”

“Look. I just want to know why you're sending me poems about...” Mokou gestured at the paper. “... watching me all night being better than sleeping.”

Futo looked at her in bewilderment. She looked to the letter again. She looked back up, eyes wide in growing realization. “Lady Fujiwara, might I be correct in guessing that the exchange of poetry was not yet a common part of courtship in thy time?”

“Uh? I mean, I didn't—wait, courtship?!”

Futo's face was quickly turning red, and she dipped several hurried bows in her seat. “Mine apologies! I had only meant to treat thee with the care that I might any other lady of noble blood, but...!”

“Hey, hey, whoa.” Mokou raised a hand to cut her off. “Okay, so let me get this straight. This thing is, uh... you asking to date me, pretty much?”

“Thy words are astute.”

Mokou glanced back to it. “... by writing a letter about how seeing me is better than dreaming.”

Futo was slumped down in her chair now, fidgeting and blushing. Her voice was rather quieter. “Yes.”

Mokou studied her across the table, then let out a long, slow sigh and folded the letter up. “First of all, it's just 'Mokou.' Nobody's called me 'Lady Fujiwara' in a millennium.”

“Of course, but I had only—...!”

Mokou cut her off again. “Second, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but nobody writes love poems anymore. … uh, well, _some_ people probably do, but it's a kind of weird way to kick things off. Maybe save that for special occasions.”

“I understand,” Futo said, meekly.

“Third... nobody really calls it 'courtship' anymore. Or, uh, really handles it like that in general.” Mokou leaned back in her seat, with a slight smirk coming to her face. “Things have changed a lot since your time, huh?”

“Yes, I... am discovering such.”

“Yeah, well, the good news is, if you're going for modern, er, 'courtship,' a bar's about as good a place to start off as any.”

It took a few seconds for Futo to grasp the full implications of the comment. When she did, she jolted up in her seat, her expression brightening in an instant. “A-ah, thou meanest...?!”

Mokou waved it aside. “Eh, sure. It isn't every day _I_ get to call somebody old-fashioned, but you're not half bad.”

“My thanks, Lady F—ah, Mokou! I shall not disappoint thee again!”

“Hey, easy, I didn't make any promises or anything. Just a few drinks to see where things go.”

“Ho, but 'twould not be the first time that a young maiden hath grown infatuated with me after seeing my charms.” Futo ended the comment with a confident wink, and practically leapt to standing from her chair. It didn't particularly help, since standing, she was still barely taller than most of the seated patrons. Fortunately, she was loud enough to make up for it. “Barkeep! Prithee, your finest for me and my beloved, and a round for all present!”

The other patrons erupted into cheers, and Mokou hurried to hide her face in embarrassment.


	3. Yukari/Yuyuko - The Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anonymous.

The first time that Yukari noticed it was three hundred years after Yuyuko's death.

Yukari came prepared, walking up the stairs to Hakugyokurou with a basket in her hands. The mansion was quiet, and nobody stood outside to greet visitors. It should have been her first sign that something was amiss, but she continued onward and knocked on the door. A servant girl led her back to Yuyuko's study.

The back door of the room was open, looking out over the mansion's enormous central rock garden. Yuyuko was seated facing it, with a scroll spread out in front of her, where she was copying the garden's features in black ink. She didn't even look up from her work as Yukari entered, and it took a few minutes more before she'd finished and was able to turn her attention to her guest.

“There we go. I'm sorry about that, but my tutor gets very grumpy if I skip my lessons. Sometimes I wonder which one of us is the real mistress of the house.” Yuyuko smiled and pushed her inkstone away, then turned to take a seat at the table across from Yukari. “It's always nice to see you, of course.”

“It's lovely to see you, Yuyuko. I'm surprised that you're working so hard on a day like this, though.”

“Hmm?” Yuyuko glanced back over her shoulder toward the open door. “Well, I suppose the weather is pretty nice. I'd much rather be spending it napping in the gardens, but...”

“I meant the occasion.” Yukari opened her basket and started unpacking its contents onto the table—two bottles of sake, two cups, a small bundle of confections. 

“The... occasion? Oh! You mean the weekend?”

Yukari finished unpacking, and studied her face, trying very hard to determine whether there was some joke here that she wasn't in on. “Yuyuko,” she finally said, “today is the anniversary of your death.”

Yuyuko reached across the table to pull the tip of a cookie from the bundle, and nibbled it thoughtfully as she considered this. “... is it?”

“Yes, it is. The twenty-first day of the third month.”

“Hmm...” Yuyuko popped the cookie into her mouth, then brightened up. “Well, that's wonderful, then! It gives us a reason to relax and enjoy ourselves.”

“Yuyuko. Did you truly not remember the date?”

“Ah, it's so hard to keep track of these things...! This is why I have to keep you around, to help me remember them.”

Yukari held Yuyuko's gaze, but as usual, it was impossible to tell whether or not her cheerful ignorance was genuine. “Of course,” she conceded, and opened a bottle to begin filling the glasses. “Then let us drink to three hundred years, and hundreds more to come.”

* * *

After that, Yukari couldn't help but notice the further changes.

A scroll of her father's writing, one of the few reminders she'd had of him, disappeared from Yuyuko's shelves one day. When Yukari asked about it, she was told that it had been moved to the library with the general poetry collection.

On another visit, Yukari brought a tin of tea, the specialty blend of Yuyuko's home village. Yuyuko praised it like she'd never tasted it before.

Yuyuko forgot the anniversary of her death again, and then, her birthday. After a decade, Yukari stopped trying to celebrate both.

Bit by bit, with each little change, Yuyuko's memories of life were disappearing.

* * *

Another century passed before Yukari raised the topic. They were curled together under the tangled sheets of Yukari's bed when she did so. “Yuyuko, dear,” she said. “Are you awake?”

“Hmm?” Yuyuko's voice was soft and sleepy, but unmistakable. “Yes, I am. Why?”

“I'd like to ask you a question. I'm afraid that it's a very rude one.”

“Usually you don't ask permission first.” Yuyuko shifted and rolled over in bed to face her. “... but go ahead.”

Yukari lay in silence for a short while, trying to mentally prepare herself for the topic at hand. “Do you remember your father's name?”

“Hmm? Well, um. It seems to have slipped my mind.”

“Do you remember the name of the village where you lived?”

“I'm... afraid not.”

“Your house, the one with the pond out back. Do you remember that?”

“A-ah, please, I'm not sure why you're asking about this, but I'd really rather not...”

Yukari pressed on past the weak protests. “Yuyuko. Do you remember how you died?”

The silence that followed was all the answer that she really needed. Yuyuko glanced down guiltily, and her hand slid into Yukari's, giving it a soft squeeze. When she dared to look up again, there were tears in her eyes, but she'd managed to put on a hopeful smile. “Perhaps you could remind me?”

 _So, she really has forgotten everything._ The thought made Yukari go numb, but she worked past it, pulling Yuyuko closer and letting her cry against her shoulder. For several minutes, soft sobs were the only sounds in the room. 

She'd already known what she needed to do, but seeing that reaction had sealed it. Even now, when all the details had faded, Yuyuko was still the same person where it mattered. That tearful, smiling expression was one that Yukari had seen centuries before. It was the face of a girl standing in the shadow of the Saigyou Ayakashi, with a knife in her trembling hands, putting on a smile in a vain attempt to convince Yukari that she was doing this out of bravery, not despair.

It was the face of a girl who had already suffered enough.

Only once Yuyuko had quieted down did Yukari dare to speak again. “You're growing forgetful in your old age, dear,” she teased weakly, stroking a hand through her hair. She took a breath to steady her voice, and she began to lie. “... you died peacefully,” she said, “and surrounded by your loved ones. It was a beautiful afternoon, and all the trees were in bloom...”


	4. Junko/Hecatia - Exhaustion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Tumblr user Flonium.

Hecatia's otherworldly headquarters, from which she oversaw a dozen spiritual planes, was tucked away in an extradimensional space adjacent to the Dream World. It wasn't the sort of place that many people could get to. She'd further reinforced her privacy by being very careful who she told about it. There were only a few people who ever visited it, so when she received a knock on her door, she had a pretty good idea that it was Junko.

What she hadn't been expecting was to find Junko leaning against the door frame, looking like she'd keel over without the support. “Good evening,” she said, in a reedy voice. “Might I come in?”

“Eesh, you look like crap.” Hecatia hurried forward and slid in next to Junko, sliding an arm behind her for support. “What the heck happened?!”

“It is of no concern.”

“It is too my concern, because you look, like, half-dead. That's probably being kind. It's more like three-quarters dead.”

Hecatia led Junko across the room, and crouched down to ease her onto a couch. Junko was practically dead weight by this point, and she had to carefully extract herself from under the woman to avoid dropping her to the ground. Only once she'd propped her up against the couch arm did she take a step back. “Alright, spill it. What's the deal?”

Junko sank back into the material of the couch, letting out a low groan of relaxation. “Of what material is this chair?”

“Eh? Oh, do you like it? It's called a 'sofa.' They're all the rage on Earth these days. Isn't it soft?”

“It is as if I am a babe being held in a mother's arms.”

“Yeah, totally. Best purchase I ever made. Except, here's the thing—you're trying to dodge the question, aren't you?”

Junko held her gaze defiantly for a moment, then caved in with a defeated grumble. “I merely pushed myself too hard. As I said, it is no great concern.”

“Just how hard?”

“I... do not entirely know. At one point I collapsed for some time. I've been working for three days, no more.”

“Ahh, jeez, jeez, you really need to take a break sometimes, yannow? Right! New rule.” Hecatia leveled a finger at Junko's face. “For the next day—and I do mean the next full twenty-four hours!—you're going to stay here and relax. Got it?”

“I only stopped in for a brief rest. My vengeance will not execute itself if I am sitting on this... _sofa_.”

“Hon, your 'vengeance' has been waiting for a few centuries now. I'm pretty sure another day isn't going to hurt.”

“... very well. One day, but no more.”

* * *

Junko ended up falling asleep on the couch within minutes, and slept for ages. While she slept, Hecatia had plenty of time to prepare for her recovery. She'd barely been awake for five minutes before Hecatia herded her into a bath, followed by breakfast, a manicure, a walk through the nearest hell's more scenic areas, a nap, and two hours of sunbathing.

By the end of it... Well. Junko still had bags under her eyes, but there were limits to what Hecatia could do in twenty-four hours. She no longer looked quite so dead, though, and her eyes were attentive as she bowed at the threshold of the doorway. “As always, thank you for your hospitality, Hecatia.”

“Hey, don't sweat it.” Hecatia crossed her arms, smirking up at her. “I guess you're off to do more plotting and scheming, huh?”

“My revenge cannot be delayed forever, yes.” For once, though, Junko was smiling as she talked about vengeance. “This experience was very invigorating. I think that it will help my planning.”

“Hey, good to hear. But, y'know. Don't overwork yourself again.” Hecatia reached up to pinch Junko's cheek, and before she could react, rose up on her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on her chin. “And don't be a stranger either, got it?”


	5. Reimu/Marisa - Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Tumblr user seirensen.

Marisa had won her fight with the maid. (What had she said her name was? Sakura? Sayaka? It had been something like that, and Marisa hadn't really been paying attention.) Over an entire night of fighting, she'd racked up more victorious battles than she'd had in her entire life before today. And yet... she couldn't really call this a good situation. She felt like shit, really. The fight with that librarian had come close to killing her half a dozen times, and it had left her tired and panting for air. The maid had done even better, and Marisa had half a dozen bloodstained rips in her dress to prove it. Her every muscle ached, and she wanted nothing more than to turn around and go home for a long, _long_ bath.

She didn't. She'd come too far to turn back now. She walked toward the giant double doors, the ones that she was pretty sure led toward the mansion's master bedroom. They were half the size of her house, and she had to put her entire body into pushing them open. Beyond was a long, candle-lit hallway, the walls lined with expensive-looking paintings. Seemed like a good sign. She walked onward.

The hallway stretched for what felt like miles, giving her plenty of time to notice the sounds coming beyond the far door. Occasional shouting, and the noises of attacks ricocheting off the walls. It only spurred her onward. She shoved up against the door, but couldn't even manage to budge it. She grit her teeth and braced her feet against the ground, and slowly, creakingly, it swung open. The exertion was enough to leave her pulse pounding in her ears, and she barely even managed to stay on her feet as she stumbled into the room beyond.

And just in time. It was a grand, spacious room, mostly empty, like some queen's audience chamber from an old book. Hovering in the air were two figures.

One was obviously the one she'd come to fight. Bat-like wings spread behind her, and vicious-looking red energy boiled from her hands. A vampire. The librarian had mentioned her, and it was obvious that she was the one behind all of this.

She was falling before Marisa was even into the room. Half a dozen ofuda clung to her, leaving a streak of smoke through the air as she plummeted toward the floor.

Higher up, still hovering under her own power, was a figure that Marisa, like most people from the Human Village, could recognize on sight: Reimu, the Hakurei shrine maid. Her red-white garment blew in a subtle breeze, but otherwise, she made flight look like the most effortless thing ever. She stood in the air like she was meant to be there, like gravity was just some tragic accident that nobody but her had managed to avoid. She still had several ofuda fanned out in her hands as she watched the vampire fall.

And Marisa's only thought was, _She doesn't even look like she broke a sweat._

* * *

Afterward, things were busy. Reimu hurried off with the vampire, for whatever it was that shrine maidens and belligerent youkai did when the fighting was done. The mansion was soon a flurry of activity, as fairies in maid uniforms—how many of those guys _were_ there?—swarmed out to play uselessly in the wreckage. When Marisa saw the head maid hurry past with a tray, she took it as her sign to show herself out before she was thrown out.

But she didn't leave just yet. She found a comfy spot on the mansion's sprawling front porch, and she waited. She'd been there for two hours when it finally swung open. Reimu stepped out.

Marisa hurried forward, eager to stop her before she could leave. “A-ah, hey,” she said. “That was good work in there.”

Reimu eyed her in confusion. “Er, thanks, I guess... What are you _doing_ here?”

“Oh, uh.” Marisa looked down at herself self-consciously. Her clothes were still torn up and dotted with blood, rumpled and sweaty. She probably looked like the less savory sort of ghost. “Well, I came to deal with the whole situation here too, but it looks like you beat me to it. Kinda, uh, convenient for me, huh?”

“You should have stayed home,” Reimu said, and stepped past her to start walking toward the gate. “A random kid like you will only get in the way if they try helping.”

“Hey, that's kinda...! Look, I've been practicin' a lot. I'm pretty good at this fighting thing!”

“You look like you're half dead.”

“A-ah, well, tonight was pretty tough, but...” Marisa trailed off and walked in awkward silence. This wasn't really how she'd expected things to play out.

They made their way past the gates. Or what was left of them, at least. They'd been blasted off their hinges and battered. Somebody had retrieved them and propped them back up against the wall, but the gate guard was nowhere to be seen. Probably off sleeping off her wounds. Reimu glanced at this curiously as they walked, but didn't speak for another minute or two. “... did you do that?”

“The gates?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh-huh. The guard was givin' me some trouble, so, you know.” Marisa mimed shooting.

“I guess that's not bad.”

“The librarian too. And that maid. I kinda trashed the place.”

“The head maid? You beat her?”

“Yeah. She was the worst. I'm not gonna feel comfortable around a knife for a year. Gonna have to eat steaks with my bare hands from now on.”

Reimu tried to keep a straight expression, but let out a weak laugh despite herself. “I guess beating those three is pretty good.” She stopped and turned toward Marisa, looking at her with reluctant interest. “... but why are you doing it in the first place?”

“Eh? What d'you mean?”

“You're just some random kid, aren't you? Why do you want to fight vampires and youkai in the first place?”

“Oh. Uh.” Marisa glanced away, rubbing at the back of her head under her hat. “Well. Y'know.”

“I really don't.”

“I just, uh. I mean. Jeez, I dunno. I've got these powers and stuff, and I've gotta do _something_ with 'em. And youkai extermination pays pretty good, right?”

“Only if you don't get killed doing it.”

Marisa kept going, regardless. “And it's pretty cool, too! You should've seen yourself back there. That vampire never had a chance. You looked like some kinda hero out of an old book. Like the kind that'd have a halo of light behind 'em.”

“I was just dealing with an annoying youkai. I would have rather been in bed.”

“Yeah, well. Once I'm up to speed taking them out, your sleep'll get interrupted half as much, right? There'll be two of us handling 'em.”

Reimu shook her head and sighed, but Marisa could still make out the hints of a growing smile on her face. “You're crazy,” she said, and glanced to Marisa again. “... but I guess you can handle yourself. What's your name? I probably shouldn't just call you 'random kid' forever.”


	6. Eirin/Sagume - Breaking the Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anonymous.

They didn't _call_ it a date.

People like them didn't get to have dates. There would be unfortunate political implications if anybody heard of them being romantically involved. Romance itself wasn't strictly banned on the moon, but it had been proposed a few times. It was a messy institution, which drove a great deal of humanity's hate, lust, and sometimes even murders. An endless well of secondhand impurities. Even among the lowest classes, romantic entanglements were considered something distasteful, best kept out of the public eye.

If they were being honest with themselves, they couldn't have called it a date anyway. They'd both dedicated their long lives to running lunar society, and work had replaced whatever might have once passed for their personal lives. They had an understanding, though, and they both enjoyed each other's company more than that of their peers.

So, this wasn't a date. It was just another in a long series of business conversations that happened to take place on the reserved balcony of a restaurant, which just happened to have a stunning view over the Mare Ingenii.

Today's outing was quieter than usual. Sagume had been looking over their shared meal, a simple plate of sliced fruit, in contemplative silence for at least ten minutes. Every now and then, she would make a move, grabbing a slice and ending it in a few quick bites. Afterward, she'd return to the same position, her fingers interlaced in front of her mouth and looking at the meal from above like a bird of prey.

Eirin studied her face. Even now, after years of doing this, she found it difficult to read Sagume's mood. Sagume had trained herself to do all things deliberately and with great care. Anybody so incautious as to reveal their secrets in their expression would never have survived in her position.

Fortunately, Sagume broke the silence and saved her the guesswork. “Eirin,” she said, slowly, “I've heard a rumor,” 

“Oh? About what?”

“I've been told that one of the princesses has been making inquiries about immortality.”

“Ah. Do you know which one?”

“I would be premature to point fingers right now.”

Eirin took her own time to consider this, and grabbed another piece of fruit to give her an excuse to stall. “I doubt you'd bring this up unless you knew more. You have some idea, don't you?”

“... I do.”

Eirin nodded. Half of conversing with Sagume was being able to fill in for her half of the conversation where necessary. “For a princess to be willing to break a taboo so deliberately... she must have a good reason, don't you think?”

“That could very well be.” Sagume grabbed another piece of fruit in return, and took a few moments to think. To an outside observer, the two must have looked like they were wrapped up in a very challenging chess game. “I've heard some of our peers say that a princess couldn't be forgiven for such a thing. She is too much of a public figure. But a pharmacist who's able to make something like that... her abilities would be too valuable to waste lightly. If she were to appear appropriately detached and penitent, she might be spared.”

A chill ran down Eirin's spine. “Are you suggesting something?”

“Of course not. Any suggestion I made would be doomed to failure.” Sagume gave a wan smile. “But I would consider it a personal favor if you'd be careful for the next few days.”

* * *

Kaguya's arrest was a polite, almost apologetic affair, led by Yorihime herself.

Kaguya's execution, a day later, had been just as quiet. That only made it worse. A guard had solemnly ended her life, three times in a row, while a silent crowd watched on.

Eirin had watched too, standing among ranks of her peers. Nobody had forced her to come. Her friendship with Kaguya was no secret, and even the strictest mandarin wouldn't have blamed her for sitting it out. She considered it her punishment, though. Not for making the Elixir, but for abandoning Kaguya in her time of need. True to Sagume's roundabout warning, she'd kept her distance since Kaguya's arrest. She hadn't used any of her considerable influence to shield Kaguya from her punishment.

And, she'd been spared. Sagume had been right. Nobody had wanted the mess that would result from accusing her, one of the architects of their society, of breaking its rules. As long as she cooperated, they were happy to overlook her transgressions.

Now, Kaguya was under house arrest, confined to her room until her exile to the Earth. Eirin hadn't left her side since. There were guards posted outside the door, but they were unnecessary—Kaguya had been sleeping for ten hours now, exhausted from healing off multiple deaths in quick succession.

Eirin hadn't even realized that she was dozing off, herself, until she was woken by the sound of the door clicking shut.

“She looks peaceful,” Sagume said, behind her.

“I suppose she does.”

Sagume stepped forward to the foot of the bed, and stood in silence for a minute. “... you did the right thing. We still need your leadership.”

“Because of that leadership, one of my friends is being banished.”

“... I had hoped that you wouldn't blame yourself for this.”

“Call it the downside of being the smartest person around. Very little happens that I don't feel responsible for.”

“... Eirin.” Sagume trailed off indecisively, with one finger pressed to her lips, like she was trying to hold her words in until they were ready. “You... don't owe yourself, to the moon or to Kaguya. If a time ever comes when we're no longer needed here, and we can—“

“This room is supposed to be for the royal family and attendants only,” Eirin said, softly, but still cutting her off. “You should probably go before the guards notice you're trespassing.”

Sagume frowned. She opened her mouth to speak several times, only for her sentences to die on her lips. Finally, she said, “Of course.” She bowed stiffly, folding her wing in against her side. “Please forgive my intrusion.”


	7. Rin/Utsuho - Ashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Tumblr user gem-sloop.

The path was hard to miss. At the far end of the Hell of Blazing Fires, there had once been a wall. Now, there was only a tunnel. Near its entrance was a massive slope of stone, an unnatural field of flow marks and bubbles that had been molten just a day or two ago.

The hole was at least as big as the Palace itself, a massive, empty space that Rin felt like she could get lost in. It stretched on for what had to be kilometers, and her footsteps echoed in front of her, bouncing back and repeating over themselves until they seemed to fill the entire void. The only features were spikes of recently-molten rock hanging from the ceiling, making flying through it in the dark a bad idea. The air still smelled like scorched stone and dirt, a thick, unnatural odor that made her chest burn. She kept going.

She finally spotted light ahead. It gave her a renewed surge of energy at first, but after another half-hour, it barely seemed to be any closer. The tunnel was just that long, and so dark that even the distant light was unmistakable. After what felt like hours, she realized that she could see the actual outline of the entrance growing ahead of her. She knew that something was wrong when she caught her first glimpse of the sky, a dark, lifeless grey. She kept going anyway.

As she got nearer to the mouth of the tunnel, fresher air came in, but it too carried the smell of smoke and ashes. Right at the exit, a heap of soil and rocks had fallen from above. She clambered over them, and found herself looking out the landscape.

It was black. Everything was, as far as she could see. Her first thought was that everything had been burnt away, but details showed themselves here and there. The skeletal remains of charred trees, and in a few places, slumped heaps of stone that might have been fences at some point.

She lingered there for a few minutes, stunned at the destruction, before something caught her eye—on the distant horizon, there was a pillar of smoke. Something that way was still burning. It was the best landmark that she had, so she leapt into the air and took off flying toward it.

The air above was cleaner, so she soon pushed herself higher, until the ground was a featureless charcoal blur beneath her, stretching from one horizon to the other. When she arrived at the pillar of smoke, she found only the smoldering remains of a tree stump, but three more streaks of smoke stood in the distance. At the base of one of them, she found the collapsed remains of a building.

She flew onward. After several hours, it started getting dark, so she curled up to sleep in the shelter of a collapsed building.

It was quiet, even quieter than the deepest caves she'd ever explored. It left her with nothing to do but think.

Bringing in surfacers had been the wrong decision. That was pretty obvious now. They hadn't managed to defeat Okuu, but they'd enraged her in the process. Where she'd only been bellowing about conquest before, the fights had left her in a bloodlust. By the end, her body was completely eclipsed by white-hot stars, too bright to even look at. Within an hour, the Blazing Hell had grown too hot for even Rin to withstand, and she'd had to retreat, while the boiling aquifer above sent tremors through the entire underworld. When she'd dared to return later, she'd found... this.

Rin woke up in the morning, uncertain if she'd ever even really slept. The smoke on the horizon had barely dwindled in the time that she'd rested. 

After another four hours of flying, she spotted the first sign of actual life nearby, a small red bird pecking hopefully at the ashes. She ate it and moved on.

By the evening she'd managed to fill her stomach with the occasional birds and mice. The fires here were more recent and still burning, but the air felt cleaner. To either side of her, she could see the distant tips of green, untouched trees.

When she settled in to sleep on the second night, the entire horizon ahead glowed with orange light. It reminded her of home.

She flew on through the third day, and the terrain changed beneath her. First, it became glowing ashes, then brighter molten rock. When the heat got to be too much for her, she had to swing around to the side to follow the trail over the untouched terrain. Okuu's path of destruction was narrower now, only a hundred meters across and shrinking rapidly. In the distance, tall human buildings poked up toward the sky, and buzzing vehicles circled overhead. She transformed back into a cat to avoid attracting their attention, but kept going.

The field of molten rock narrowed down to a point at the far end. Beyond it, footsteps were scorched into the soil, then a trail of burnt vegetation leading off over a hill. Rin scampered along it, and she caught her first sign of Okuu's scent. The trail wound up and down a series of hills, until finally, it descended into a valley and didn't come back up.

Okuu was at the bottom.

She was laying in a stream, curled up and unmoving. A cloud of steam was rising up from her, but compared to what had come before, it was barely even noteworthy.

“Okuu!”

Rin had transformed back into her human form before she'd even realized it, but still stuck to all fours as she bounded down the hillside. She landed in the creek with a splash and slid one arm under Okuu, tugging her up into her lap. “Okuu, can you hear me?! Are ya alright?!”

Her skin was still hot to the touch, but she didn't respond. Rin pulled her other hand out and fumbled with her clothes until she could slide a hand under her collar to check for a pulse. “Hey, Okuu! Say somethin'! Okuu! C'mon, c'mon, you've gotta start movin' or...”

“G'way,” Okuu mumbled.

“I'm not goin' nowhere! You're gonna drown if you don't get up, dummy!”

Okuu groaned, but her body moved in Rin's arms. Rin released her, giving her room as she slid out of her lap and landed in the water in roughly a seating position. She looked terrible, with every inch of her skin and clothes covered in soot. She smelled like the less savory variety of burnt corpse. But she was _alive_.

Okuu's head tilted back, as her eyes followed the burnt trail on the hillside up to the skyline, still smeared with smoke. It was hard to read her expression past the smudges on her face, but the look of shock was still unmistakable. A tremble ran through her body.

“Hey, hey,” Rin said, and hurried in to pull her into a hug. “Jus' take it easy. Gotta be tired after all that, right?”

Okuu squeezed her back, hard enough that it would have popped a rib if she'd been human. She started sobbing, and it took ten or fifteen seconds before she managed to choke out, “I'm sorry, Rin. I'm real sorry.”


	8. Reimu/Ruukoto - Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Tumblr user ruukotopresents.

The button collapsed under Reimu's finger with a satisfying _click_. For a moment, she was afraid that it hadn't done anything. Then, she heard the noise, starting off as a sharp grinding sound before settling into a steady hum. The still mostly cloth-wrapped lump in front of her shuddered, and a voice came from within. “Good morning, master! … I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but I seem to have gone blind.”

“Oh, right.” Reimu had stepped back in case the thing exploded or something, but now hurried back closer to tug the cloth off. A cloud of dust rose from it, and Reimu waved it away with her hand. “How's that?”

“That's better, thank you.” The android beneath was... presentable, more or less. Her entire body had a grey-brown patina of dust, and something inside of her was making a strained-sounding clicking noise, but she still moved smoothly enough as she sat up, idly wiping dust from her clothes and glancing around at the storeroom. After a few seconds of this, she frowned thoughtfully. “I've been offline for... a very long time.”

“A-ah, have you?”

“It's been six thousand, five hundred, and forty-seven days. That's seventeen years, eleven months, and two days,” she offered helpfully.

“I guess it's been a while.” Reimu glanced guiltily aside for a moment. “... but that doesn't really matter. The _important_ thing is that I could use some help cleaning around the shrine. Do you think you're up to it?”

“Oh! Yes, I'd love to.”

“Great! That's great.” Reimu warmly slapped the android's shoulder. Another cloud of dust rose from it. “I'm really busy today, so I'd appreciate the help… um. I don't remember your name?”

“Ruukoto.”

“Right, Ruukoto. I knew it was something like that.” Reimu stepped aside and gestured toward the door. “Let me show you what needs done.”

* * *

It didn't take long for Reimu to remember why she'd left the android in the storage room in the first place.

New Year's Eve was tomorrow. The busiest day of the year was coming up, and the shrine was a mess. The front path was still filled with heaps of snow, the roof was leaking in three places, a storm had knocked branches into the front yard, the torii desperately needed repainted, and the shrine's steps needed swept.

In three hours of work, Ruukoto had tried to shovel the snow into one _big_ pile in the middle of the pathway, patched the leaky tiles by pulling tiles from other spots of the roof, spent twenty minutes trying to reattach the fallen branches to trees, started painting the torii the wrong color, and made the steps into a giant ice slick by rinsing them off with a bucket of water.

After sending Ruukoto back inside, it had taken Reimu four more hours of work just to undo the damage and get back to where she'd started. It was well after dark when she trudged inside, feeling like half of her body was frozen solid. She barely managed to make it to her kotatsu before slumping down to the floor.

She'd just settled in when Ruukoto's voice came from the shrine's cooking area. “Welcome back, master! I thought you might like something warm to drink after that.” She stepped out, carrying a teapot and a single cup on a tray, and slid it onto the table.

Reimu eyed it from her spot on the floor. The cheery steam rising from the top of the teapot did look inviting, but sitting up sounded like a lot of effort right now. “Thanks. Just pour me some and leave it there. I'll drink it in a bit.”

“Very well.”

Ruukoto lifted the pot and carefully poured the contents into the cup. The substance inside was tea-like, but dense with brown flecks and clumps. Reimu sighed. So much for getting her hopes up. “You're not supposed to put the tea leaves into the pot, you know. There's a little basket on top for them.”

“Oh. Would you like me to make it again? I could—“

“No, it's fine.”

It really _wasn't_ fine, though. A warm drink was just what Reimu needed right now, and now if she wanted it, she was going to have to trudge back to the kitchen, clean out the teapot, and brew a new batch. Worse than if she'd just done it herself in the first place. With a tired grumble, she pushed herself up to sitting. “Come over here and sit down.”

“Of course.”

Reimu could hear every creak and whirr from Ruukoto's long-disused joints as the android walked nearer, then sank down to kneel on the floor in front of her. Reimu pulled the back of her dress down to find the control panel beneath.

“Master?”

“What?” Reimu said, straining to read the dusty labels.

“Could I ask a question?”

“I don't see why not.” _Reset, Wi-Fi, Maintenance Mode... ah, Power—_

“Why did you leave me deactivated for seventeen years?”

Reimu's finger froze halfway to the button. She'd been hoping to do this the easy way, but this was fine too. “You can't clean, you can't cook, and you mess up everything I ask you to do. Nobody needs a maid like that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Reimu sat there, with her hand hovering indecisively behind Ruukoto's back. For a while, the only sound was the occasional grinding noise or click from inside the android's body.

“If you don't mind,” Ruukoto said, “I'd like to try to make tea again.”

Reimu hesitated for a moment, then slumped back with a sigh and leaned on the kotatsu. “... fine, whatever,” she said. One more mess at this point wouldn't hurt. “Do what you want.”

Ruukoto walked around the table and crouched down next to the tea pot. “I put the leaves in here, right?” She pointed at the top.

“Yeah.”

“And the water goes in here?”

“Right.”

“And I use very hot water?”

“No, just barely boiling.”

“Thank you. I think I understand.”

Ruukoto carried the pot and cup back toward the cooking area. Occasional sounds drifted back from it. One of them involved breaking glass. Reimu stared stubbornly ahead and resolved not to interfere.

Five minutes later, Ruukoto returned and knelt next to the kotatsu. She slid the now-empty cup over, and raised the teapot over it. Liquid flowed out. Reimu leaned forward to inspect it. Nothing was floating in it. It was the right color. It smelled about right. She took a cautious sip, and while it tasted a little scorched, it was still more or less _tea_. “... that's better.”

“Thank you!” Ruukoto stood again and proudly beamed down at her handiwork. Her smile faded after a few seconds. “My programming isn't very well adapted to this juncture in space-time, and my systems are eighteen years out of date now, but... if you're willing to be patient and explain things to me, I think that I can still be helpful.”

Reimu grumbled under her breath and took another sip of tea. “That still sounds like a lot of work.”

“It might be. I'm sorry.”

“... but I guess if I can find somebody to fix you up so you don't make weird noises when you walk around... there wouldn't be any harm in at least letting you do a few things around the house.”

“Oh! Yes, repairs would be great!” Ruukoto dipped a deep bow, and a cloud of dust flew up from her clothes. “Thank you!”

“You got dust in my tea.”

“Ah! I'm sorry! I can brew some more if you want.”

Reimu sighed and sat the cup down, giving it a push back toward her. “Sure, I guess. I have time.”


	9. Seija/Marisa - Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Tumblr user pywackett-barchetta.

“Marisa. You don't have to do this.”

Reimu's voice was weak, and the autumn breeze nearly drowned it out, but it still pierced straight to Marisa's heart. She glanced down, tugging on the brim of her hat to hide her eyes. “It's my card up next, Reimu. I'm gonna be all sportsman-like and give you the chance to surrender first.”

Reimu's eyes widened in surprise, then her expression hardened. She took a deep breath and lifted her gohei. Even that made Marisa wince. Reimu's clothes were clinging to her with blood and sweat, and even poised and ready for combat, she looked like a feather could knock her over. No matter what Seija said, she couldn't convince herself that this was a fair fight. “No, let's do it,” Reimu said. “Last round.”

“Fine.” Marisa fumbled in her pocket, and raised the card where she'd hastily jotted the details of her newest attack. “I've been calling this one 'Dark Spark' again, on account of... you know.”

“Stop wasting time and get on with it.”

“Yeah, right. Here goes.” She cleared her throat and shifted her posture, then flipped the mini-hakkero up into her hands. Gritting her teeth, she fired.

The attack burst forward with the slow inevitability of a collapsing house. Black energy burnt across the Hakurei shrine's courtyard. The grass wilted where it touched it. Flagstones were ripped up from the path and sent tumbling across the ground. Numbing, entropic energy coursed through Marisa's veins like shards of ice. There was no burst of light, no eye-watering wind kicked back from it: only slow, grinding destruction.

When the attack tapered off, ten seconds later, Reimu was sprawled on the ground, meters away from her gohei.

For a moment, nothing in the courtyard moved. Then, a slow clap came from behind Marisa broke the silence. “Doesn't look like it killed her. Kind of a pity, that.”

“She... she didn't even dodge...” Marisa was rooted to the spot in disbelief, still staring at Reimu.

“How can you tell? She was probably too tired to even try.” Seija stepped up next to Marisa, a sharp-edged grin on her face, and slapped her on the back. “Come on. Let's go check for a pulse.”

Seija stepped forward, and it was the trigger that Marisa needed to move. She rushed up to Reimu's side and crouched down, fumbling with her neck until she could find the artery. Up close, Reimu looked even worse. The attack had left small slices, like paper cuts, criss-crossing her flesh. Her skin was pale, and it felt cool to the touch. As Marisa watched, her chest rose and fell with breath, though, and a weak pulse came through her skin. “She's alive,” she said, more relieved than she'd ever felt in her life. “She's alive!”

“Egh. Well, it's nothing that a good kick won't fix.”

“ _Don't._ ”

“Relax! I was just kidding.” Seija stepped up next to her, still grinning. As usual, Marisa really couldn't tell if she was being honest or not. “There wouldn't be a percentage in that. We've already got what we want.” She crouched down and rested a hand on Marisa's shoulder, raising her other to gesture grandly in the air. “'Hakurei Shrine Maiden Defeated.' That's what all the newspapers are going to say tomorrow, with a big picture of your face under it. Feels good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Marisa, mumbled. “Real good.”

“Ugh, what kind of tone is that? Look, you won. I said I'd make you the strongest in Gensokyo, and I did. Once word about this gets out, there won't be anybody who'd dare to deny it. If they do, you and me, we'll kick their ass. That's what you wanted, right?”

“I guess.”

“Well, then lighten up a little. I don't know what sad BS is running through your head right now, but this isn't... betrayal, or evil, or whatever. This? This is what all that training you've wasted your life on was leading up to. This is _destiny_. So, do you want to sit out here moping over stuff that's already finished...” Seija lunged toward Reimu, and Marisa flinched, bracing herself for a kick. Instead, Seija only braced a foot against the shrine maiden and gave her a shove, rolling her over. “Or do you want to get on with this and make sure everybody knows who's in charge from now on?”

Marisa had been sullenly glaring down at Reimu, but now found herself with the beginnings of a smile on her face despite herself. “Yeah,” she said, and slapped her hand into Seija's. “Let's get to work.”


	10. Marisa/Yukari - Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Tumblr user mostlyscrutable.

“Oh, right,” Marisa said, looking up from her drink. “I hear that the Myouren temple's angling for hosting the last party of flower-viewing season this year.”

The group who'd come to today's flower-viewing, behind the Hakurei shrine, was a pretty large and diverse one. Now, they all looked up from private arguments and drinking, as they considered this new topic.

“Eh, the Myouren group usually liven parties up pretty well,” Aya said. “Seems worth a try.”

“It seems like having a party next to a graveyard would be kind of creepy... but it gets pretty back there in the spring, doesn't it?” Sanae said.

“Hmm, I think that you're all forgetting something,” Yukari said. She'd been sitting near the back of the group, and Marisa had nearly forgotten she was even present. Now, every eye present turned toward her. That just sort of happened whenever Yukari spoke. “A flower-viewing at a Buddhist temple? That likely means no drinking. No meat. No music, unless you count chanting sutras. It may not be much of a party.”

A murmur ran through the group, as they considered this horrifying prospect. Marisa leaned back against her chosen tree, raising her arms behind her head for a makeshift pillow. “Ah, darn. If _Yukari_ won't be going, I guess we've all gotta stay home. The night just wouldn't be the same without somebody hangin' around to be mysterious and smug.”

“Oh? Are you truly that disappointed, Marisa? Well, how about this? Since my presence is obviously such a personal comfort to you, I'll go, but only if you will be my date.”

“... ah?” Marisa froze in place. “Uh.”

“Well? What do you say? It's a fine deal, isn't it?” Yukari leaned forward, with an unreadable smile on her face. “Or were you just being sarcastic? If that were the case, why, it might just break my heart. Who knows what I would do?”

Marisa held her gaze for several seconds, teeth clenched. Then, she shrugged and tilted her head back, closing her eyes with as much feigned disinterest as she could muster. “Nah, you know me, always honest and forthcomin' and stuff. So sure, why not? Let's call it a date.”

* * *

The final flower-viewing of spring was always one of the year's biggest social events for youkai, after only the _first_ flower-viewing and the occasional post-incident party. The garden behind the Myouren temple was now filled with guests, lingering in groups around flowering trees and statues of buddhas. It was crowded enough that it took a good ten minutes before Marisa spotted Yukari, seated under a tree in the corner of the garden from which the entire party was visible. “Yo,” she said, as she descended from the air. “Looks like you were right. Nothin' but fruit juice and vegetarian food on offer. Kinda disappointing.”

“So it would seem. Good afternoon, Marisa.”

“Heya. … of course, half the monks here probably have their own flasks of booze to drink from. Kinda hypocritical, if you ask me.”

“Perhaps it is.”

“Only...” Marisa reached into the folds of her dress, and slowly withdrew a bottle of spirits. Grinning, she gave it a shake. “... I was gonna just spike the punch bowl, but I think it's probably too crowded to pull that off. That just means we don't have to share, right?”

“Oh? You're quick to admit defeat, don't you think?”

“I dunno about you, but I'd rather not fight half the Buddhists in Gensokyo tonight.”

“Well,” Yukari said, and her hand dipped into a gap. When she pulled it back, she was holding a bottle of clear liquid, with a label in a language that Marisa couldn't read. She gave it a shake, mirroring Marisa's gesture. “It would seem that great minds think alike.”

“Nice, nice. Well, I dunno about everybody else, but it looks like you and me are set for the night.”

“Ah, no, you see, this is very potent. If you drank it straight, you wouldn't wake up in the morning. It will need to be mixed. I'm thinking that your bottle, my bottle, and the entire punch bowl should do it.”

It took a moment for Marisa to realize what Yukari was getting at. She chuckled at the resulting mental images, but shook her head. “Nice idea, but there's no way you could pour all that into the drink without anybody noticin'.”

“Oh, really?” Yukari lifted the bottle, and with a flourish, began pouring it into empty air. A gap opened beneath the stream of liquid, and the drink disappeared into it. She held the bottle there, steady, until the last drop ran out, then took Marisa's bottle and repeated the process. If Marisa paid very close attention, she thought she could notice the level in the punch bowls rising. “Now then,” Yukari said, sitting the second bottle aside. “How would you like to get some drinks?”

* * *

Whatever Yukari had added to the juice, Marisa had to hand it to her: It was some strong stuff. It gave it a slight burn on the way down. Accordingly, it had only taken a few minutes for somebody else to realize what had happened, a few more minutes for the many youkai to gather around the spiked punch bowl like it was an oasis, and a few minutes past that before Byakuren caught on and rushed in for bewildered damage control.

By then, it had been too late. The contents of the first punch bowl had disappeared, and the assorted participants had been inspired to make their own contributions to raising the party's average blood alcohol content. Byakuren made a desperate attempt to stop this, aided by the few of her followers who weren't participating. Despite their efforts, things only grew more chaotic. Objects had started randomly morphing into new forms, in what could only be Nue's handiwork. A few of the Taoists showed up, drawn by the spreading news of the increasingly eventful gathering, until a series of inter-religion duels had started. Within an hour, the flowers were entirely forgotten, as the disturbance became a self-perpetuating attraction of its own.

Marisa and Yukari had taken that as their opportunity to slip out, before anybody thought to investigate who had spiked the juice in the first place. “I've gotta hand it to ya,” Marisa said, once she'd stopped laughing for long enough to speak. “That turned out pretty fun, considering!”

“Mmh, it did. I suppose you were right after all.”

“Only, here's the thing I don't get. Did you know that spiking the drinks would make all that happen when you did it?”

“Of course not. Did you?”

“Eh. I dunno. I just thought it'd be funny.”

“Well, there you have it. … I have felt that Byakuren needed the reminder that youkai temperaments run counter to her morals. If this had failed, though, I could have always tried another time. A large part of gaining a reputation as a master planner is simply enacting enough plans that one will eventually succeed.”

“I'm just hearing, 'I dunno, but I thought it'd be funny.'”

“Essentially, yes.”

“It's a pretty good policy. The way I see it, what's the point of being alive if you're gonna let interesting chances pass you by?”

“Like insulting an elder youkai at a party.”

“... ah. Uh. Yeah, sure. Like that.”

Yukari glanced over at her, but looked more amused than upset. “It isn't a bad policy, I suppose,” she said. “Tell me, Marisa, have you ever drank fine sake while watching the stars from the back of a moving train?”

“Uh. I'm not really sure what a train is, so I don't think so?”

“Well, you've been good company so far tonight.” Yukari turned and offered a hand over. “Would you like to?”


	11. Kasen/Komachi - Cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Tumblr user hungry0bookworm.

“Hey!” Heavy footsteps, paired with the thunk of something wooden being used like a cane, made their way along the outside wall of the dojo. When they reached the door, something rapped heavily on it. “Kasen, open up! Death is here for you.”

“I'm coming, yes.” Kasen hurried across the room, wiping her hands on her apron as she did. By the time she reached the door, they were clean enough for her to open it. “Don't you think it's in poor taste to make jokes like that, though? Honestly.”

“Heh. Maybe a little,” Komachi admitted, without letting her grin falter for a moment. She was leaning on her scythe when the door opened, but now straightened up, giving it a completely unnecessary spin before slinging it over her shoulder. “I think this is the first time I've dropped by and you weren't outside meditating or studying in your room. What gives?”

“I'm cooking.”

Komachi crouched down a little to peer past the top of the door frame, and only now seemed to notice the unmistakable evidence. Kasen was wearing an apron, with her hair tied back in a kerchief. On the other side of the sparse living space behind her, the dojo's tiny cooking space was filled with pots and pans. A few of them, sitting on top of a small oven, had steam seeping past the lids. “Looks like a feast,” she said, smirking. “Did you get tired of the hermit diet?”

“It's daifuku. I usually bring the alcohol to parties, but Reimu said she had it taken care of and asked me to bring snacks next time. I... really haven't cooked much in a while, let alone this much, so I really should be getting back to it...”

“Right, in that case...” Komachi stepped forward, carefully maneuvering her scythe through the doorway. “We'll just have to talk while you cook.”

It was the first time Komachi had ever come inside, and she hadn't even waited for an invitation. Kasen shook her head with a sigh. “Very well. Just try not to distract me too much, please.”

* * *

Komachi's visits had started out as occasional things, where she'd only stayed for a few minutes at a time to pass dire judgment on Kasen's actions. Kasen had never been convinced that this was an officially approved use of a shinigami's time, but she'd never bothered to protest it, either. Over the years, they'd grown longer and more casual, and now...

Now, Komachi was sitting against the wall, with her scythe propped up next to her, and had spent the past twenty minutes chatting away cheerfully about whatever topic seemed to cross her mind. “... budget cuts, but I'm not too worried. Ferrying work isn't the kind of thing they can cut back on, you know? It isn't like people are going to start dying less often.”

“I suppose that's right.”

Komachi nodded, satisfied, and studied Kasen's hands as she worked. After a while, she scooted closer, and watched the process with a thoughtful frown. “So, uh... what are those supposed to look like?”

Kasen almost flinched, but she held the latest daifuku up for inspection. It was round. Round-ish, at least. Two cherries sat on the front, meant to look like eyes, but one was higher than the other, and they sat in deep thumbprint-shaped dimples. Two slivers of leaves poked up from its head, jutting out at different angles. Along its body, finger-sized indentations still showed where she'd tried in vain to add any details to it, and bean paste had leaked out of one like blood from a wound. “It's a rabbit.” She pointed at another one on her tray of finished results. “This one is a okuriinu. This one is a raiju. They're all made to look like animals I've trained. At least, they're supposed to be.”

“Ah, uh, hermit-themed mochi, huh? I wouldn't have expected somebody like you to get so... artistic.”

“I had to talk to the miko at the Moriya shrine to even get the recipe, and it was her idea to decorate them. I thought it sounded cute.” With a self-conscious smile, Kasen sat the 'rabbit' in alongside the other finished animals. “It was probably too ambitious for somebody who barely cooks.”

“Mind if I try one?”

“Well, they probably aren't very good, but...”

“I'll be the judge of that.” Humming to herself, Komachi looked over the finished animals for a few seconds before selecting one. She lifted it up, and made a point of inspecting it before biting into its head. “Hmm, not bad!”

“Thank you.”

“This one's a, um...” Komachi examined it again. “Turtle?”

“It's a tiger,” Kasen said, with a slight defensive edge to her voice. “Do you see? It has lines on the back. Those are its stripes.”

“Oh, huh. I thought that was a shell.”

“If you think you could do better,” Kasen said, and pushed the bowl of mochi across the table, “then be my guest.”

“Hmm. Sure, okay.”

Komachi took a handful and hunched over, shielding it from Kasen's eyes as she worked. And worked, and worked. After four minutes, Kasen started tapping her finger on the table. “How long do you plan to take?”

“Shouldn't a hermit be a little more patient? Just a few more... actually, nah, I think this will be fine.”

“Great. Can I see?”

Komachi slowly raised her hands, with the ball cupped between them to keep it hidden. With a flourish, she pulled them apart to reveal a tiny mochi ball, with a face detailed on the front out of cherries and slivers of leaves, and two smaller balls on either side of the head.

It took Kasen a moment to realize what she was looking at. “Is that supposed to be _me_?”

“Heh. Yeah! I was going to try giving you hair, but I ran out of time...” Komachi sat it on the table and pushed it over. “I couldn't think of anything else to make, since I don't have pets or anything.”

“It's... very detailed. I hadn't thought that you'd be able to do a nose.”

“I'm pretty good at this stuff! I have a lot of time to experiment with making things when I'm bored at wor—“ Komachi stopped mid-sentence, her eyes going wide like she'd almost let something slip. “A-ah, anyway! I don't need to be back at the ferry for a couple of hours, so how about you do the cooking and roll them, and I'll decorate?”

“... I appreciate the help,” Kasen said. Lifting the head-shaped daifuku, she took a prim bite from the side. “I'll be keeping this one, though.”


	12. Yukari/Reimu - Like a Moth to a Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by ff.net user DezoPenguin.

“Ran had told me that you're a powerful combatant,” Yukari said, as she leisurely walked around Reimu, the forest's twigs crunching under her feet. She came to a stop in front of her, peering down. “I'll have to scold her when I get home. Lying is strictly against a shikigami's duties.”

“S-shut up.” Reimu struggled to push herself off of the ground, but all the strength had left her arms. Between the near-hour of fighting, the repeated blows, and her fall to the forest floor, she suspected that she was going to be feeling this one for days to come. “You already won. Gloating about it is just annoying.”

“That never stopped your ancestors from doing it, though.” Yukari turned, pivoting away from Reimu and propping her parasol up against her shoulder. It just enraged Reimu even more. A youkai turning her back on her so casually after a battle. Like she know that Reimu was no longer a threat. “I'll be taking my leave. If you'd like a rematch, you do know where to find my servants, after all.”

And like that, she was gone.

* * *

“Reimu, dear.” Yukari turned to look back at Reimu over a shoulder. Her tone was so casual that Reimu could almost believe that she just happened to be taking a relaxing midnight walk in the forest, rather than answering a challenge for a duel. “It's so nice to see you again.”

Reimu bit back an insult. Being defeated for the first time had been an unpleasant shock. Coming face to face with the youkai responsible, she wanted nothing more than to rush forward and smack that confident smile off with her gohei.

For now, she settled instead for leveling the tip at her. “You can drop the act. We both know we're here to fight.”

“Oh? But we already settled our differences. I won, remember?”

“That was then. I've spent the past two weeks training. I want a rematch.”

“Ah, two whole weeks? Well, if you're sure that you'd like to be defeated again so soon...”

“The only thing I'm sure about that I'm ready to teach you a lesson.” Reimu flicked her hand out, fanning ofuda between her fingers. “Now stop stalling and let's get this started.”

Within thirty minutes, Reimu was once again collapsed on the forest floor. Smiling, Yukari crouched down in front of her. “You're going to have to do better than that, shrine maiden,” she said. Once again, she disappeared without a trace.

* * *

Reimu shouldn't have cared anymore. Yukari hadn't gone out of her way to spread word of her victories. The barrier to the Netherworld was still open, but it didn't seem to be hurting anything. The villagers barely even knew that anything had happened in the first place. She could have given up on the fight, and nobody would have even noticed.

Every time she thought of giving up, though, she remembered Yukari's dismissive smile and redoubled her efforts.

It became a routine. They would fight. Yukari would beat her to the ground. And then, after a few clipped parting words, Yukari would vanish. Reimu would spend a few days nursing her wounds, a week or two training further, and she'd challenge her again.

“Y'know what I think?” Marisa said, as she watched Reimu practice gohei swings one evening. “I think you're so used to every youkai you meet being scared of you, the thought that there's one who doesn't even _care_ just drives you nuts.”

Reimu didn't answer.

* * *

She fought Yukari ten times, and managed to get past half of her spell cards.

She fought her twenty times, and made it to the final one. Yukari helped her up from the ground before she left.

Now, at the end of her twenty-sixth attempt, she was looking down at Yukari's defeat. Reimu hadn't held back in her final volleys, and it showed—Yukari was crumpled on the ground, clothes covered in rips from the tumble she'd taken across the forest floor, leaves and scorched pieces of ofuda stuck in her hair. As Reimu approached her, she was worried that she'd taken it too far, until a pained groan proved that she was still alive.

“You made this really annoying,” Reimu said, as she drew to a stop next to her. “I should exterminate you just for putting me through that much trouble.”

“Somehow,” Yukari said, and struggled to push herself off of the ground, “I doubt that you will.”

“I _should_ , though.”

“Mmh, perhaps.” Yukari pulled her legs under her to kneel on the ground, and made the position look far more elegant than it had any right to. Then, she leaned forward, dipping down in a solemn bow. “That was very well done, Hakurei shrine maiden. Congratulations.”

Reimu stared down at her, barely able to believe what she was seeing. “What kind of youkai thanks somebody for defeating her?!”

“And why does a human keep coming back to a fight after she's been defeated two dozen times? You've worked hard to reach this point, Reimu. I admire that.”

“A-ah, well. Thanks?”

“You're welcome.” Apparently Reimu's blush was obvious even in the low moonlight, because Yukari's smile grew. She gestured to the ground in front of her. “I feel like we have a lot to discuss. Please, have a seat.”


End file.
